Courting Spider-Man
by TheMadKatter13
Summary: [Commission 02] You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals so let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel. CU; Younger (but still over 18) Wade / Older Peter
1. Dancing

**Commission request from superblynerdyfun (tumblr) / OMG_Sallie (AO3) for a younger (but still over 18) Deadpool aggressively pursuing an older Spidey + rimming. Summary from Bloodhound Gang's 'The Bad Touch'. Beta by my amazing best friend who keeps trying to resist the way I'm hastily shoving her into the Spideypool trash bin; valiant effort my dude but I'mma getcha.**

 **Fun fact: unlike movies, I write everything in the order it's read. Unfun fact: this fic fought me so much that this has become the first fic written out of reading order.**

 **Cross-posted from AO3 same day.**

* * *

 _ **Dancing**_

For absolutely no reason that followed any kind of logic anywhere in the universe, when something hit the dead center of Peter's right butt cheek and bounced off, his first (inexplicable) reaction was to look up at the sky. Sure, it was mind-numbingly humid outside, the air so muggy that muggers weren't mugging, but he'd never live it down if anyone had seen him look _up_ when he'd been hit from _behind_.

Except someone _had_ seen him do it.

He'd actually forgotten that he'd heard someone join him on the roof a while ago, because they'd both done the New Yorker thing and ignored one another. But when further butt-hitting things failed to materialize from the sky, Peter realized that ignoring them was no longer an option and turned around. Only to find a costume sitting on the opposite ledge, holding a palmful of coins and looking ready to flick another Peter's way.

"Oh shit, he noticed us," the stranger muttered.

Peter frowned at the words and glanced around, but there was no one else in sight.

"It's kinda hard to ignore ass-bound projectiles," Peter finally replied, raising a brow under his mask.

"Oh, don't mind us, Spidey. We're just testing the bounce ratio of that ass. Do you have any coins? I only found quarters and it's not really a test without variables." The man flicked another coin, which seemed to be a wide shot, but it bounced off a duct with a _clang_ and hit Peter's _left_ butt cheek, making him jump.

"A man after my own heart," Peter replied drily. "I can't say I know you, however."

Without warning, the man jumped to his feet, dropping his palmful of coins to the roof floor (Peter almost dropped with them to pick up what had to be at least $10 in loose change), and then struck a pose that was better suited to a Japanese schoolgirl taking a selfie with her friends rather than a grown man.

"Deadpool's the name, murder's the game, and that butt's my thang. Trust me Spidey. Well… don't trust me; I'm like the anti-trustiest, but trust me on this 'cuz I know butts and yours is top-notch, top-of-the-line, top of my list: Best. Butt. Ever. Been touching myself to that fine thing since before I could read, I'll tell you. Your ass makes a fantastic wallpaper b-t-dubs, but it gets dirty pretty fast, if you catch my drift." The mask winked.

Peter stared. He apparently did know the man. Or rather, he knew his reputation. And probably the cover page of his SHIELD file. Not on purpose, just over the last few weeks, any time Peter had run into one of the Avengers, they'd each warned him individually of the dangers New York's newest mutant posed. Coulson had warned him the guy had become unkillable after genetic testing he'd gone through to try to cure his cancer. Stark had blatantly dropped Deadpool's unusually high kill count from when he'd been enlisted with the Canadian Special forces, and then added that his kill count as a mercenary couldn't actually be counted with any kind of accuracy. Peter had had to edge away when Barton had started waxing poetic about the mercenary's weapons, and he'd straight up left when Romanoff had actually complimented his skill (he'd seen her in action; impressing her was not something done easily). Dr Banner's input had only been "He doesn't know how to shut the fuck up", which was impressive in its own right since that was literally the only time Peter had heard him curse. Ever. Cap he surprisingly just didn't run into.

Somehow, amongst all those useful warnings, they had failed to inform him of three very important things. First, it sounded like Deadpool was implying that he was in his early 20s. Not that that really meant a lot by way of accomplishments since Peter had started Spider-Manning when he was 15, but still. Second, that he had an apparent obsession with Spider-Man's ass. And third, and most importantly, that he was _completely off his rocker_.

A conclusion that was only confirmed when the man crouched down Zoidberg-style, whipped a pair of folding hand fans with patterns that looked suspiciously like the colouring on a peacock spider's abdomen, and proceeded to crab walk from side to side while directing air traffic with his fans.

The sight completely wiped the very important question as to whether or not the mercenary was here to try and kill Spider-Man from Peter's mind, and he came to the conclusion that he was hallucinating the encounter. A decade and a half of sleep deprivation, stress, and malnourishment combined with weeks of scare-tactic warnings from his co-workers and one abnormally, _disgustingly_ hot night had finally done him in.

"What are you doing," Peter manage to choke out, unable to figure out exactly how to react to the display Deadpool was putting on. He kind of wanted to laugh, but he was afraid of encouraging his hallucination.

"Courting my favourite superhero, of course!" Deadpool replied cheerfully as his dance started to repeat itself. Maybe. It was hard to tell for sure. "Well, second favourite, but like a tie, because Captain America is like everyone's favourite to the point that it's just assumed default and you have to pick another one but it's not like I _have_ to pick another cuz ain't no one gonna tell me I gotta do shit but because if Cap didn't come back to life you'd be my favorite bar none but now you're my favourite bar one."

It had already been too hot to deal with any wackiness, and just being a spectator to the indescribable spectacle cemented Peter's decision to turn in early for the night. Maybe getting a few extra hours of sleep would stop his hallucination from returning.

"I have to go."

He didn't wait for an answer before he shot off a web, but as he swung away, he did hear the guy say "And there's the coup de gr-âss," and Peter couldn't help but snort. At least his hallucination was funny.

* * *

A hallucination that had attempted to court him with the peacock spider's actual fucking mating dance, as Peter accidentally discovered amidst a bout of giggles later that week.

* * *

As sure as Peter was that he'd hallucinated Deadpool, he still mentioned him to the Avengers when he dropped by the Tower the next day.

"I think I met Deadpool yesterday," he said as everyone was getting up to leave the conference room. As one, they all turned to stare at him, which kinda made him glad he was sitting by the door. "Did he uh… hit on any of you when you first met him?"

Surprisingly, it was Cap who spoke up. With a pink face. "Did he, ah… Did he grab your rump?"

"We call it an 'ass', Cap," Tony snarked gleefully.

Peter ignored him and looked at Rogers curiously. "Why, did he grab yours?"

Cap turned an even darker shade and began to mutter something even Peter's hearing couldn't pick up on, but he gathered that was a 'yes'. He decided to consider himself lucky that the only thing of Deadpool's that had touched his ass had been quarters.

Tony rapped his knuckles on the table to get Peter's attention and then pointed at him. "You see Deadpool again, kid, you bag him, tag him, and wait for SHIELD to show up and take him. Kid's a menace. And be careful. He has a weird boner for the Avengers too."

Peter almost mentioned that Deadpool had said that Spider-Man was his favourite, but even thinking it felt too much like a superhero dick-measuring contest. Not that it would matter because if they met again, Peter was going to web him up and leave him for the police like any other criminal.

* * *

The next time they met, Peter did not web Deadpool up and leave him for the police like any other criminal.

TBC

* * *

 **If you get the chance, just search youtube for 'peacock spider' and that first result should be the mating dance. It's hilarious and adorable. Treat yourself.**

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	2. Fighting

**Cross-posted from AO3 same day.**

 **Apologies for posting so late in the day but... greetings from Sherlock Seattle.**

* * *

 _ **Fighting**_

It was only a week after Peter first met Deadpool that he saw the mercenary again. Except this time it wasn't on a roof, but in a warehouse used for slave trading, and he was using his excessive weaponry to kill Peter's suspects.

"Hey, baby boy!" Deadpool sounded way too cheerful for someone in a one-on-mob fight with actual Italian mobsters.

Peter scowled and kicked a goon in the face on his way into the fray. "Don't call me that. It's weird. And I'm older than you which makes it double weird- NO KILLING!" he shouted hurriedly, shooting out a glob of web to block the… barrel? Nah, that didn't sound right… Shooty hole? No way. Fuck it. Peter shot a glob of webbing at the shooty hole of Deadpool's gun which had just been aimed at someone's head. "No sword killings either or else I'll string you up with the rest of these tools."

For a split second, Deadpool went still while staring at him and Peter's Spidey sense went wild, and he wondered if the mercenary was going to turn on him too. But his senses went quiet just as quickly and Deadpool saluted him.

"Whatever you say, snookums!"

Peter glared. 'Snookums' was worse than 'baby boy'.

In spite of the Avengers' warnings, and Peter's own trepidation, he found himself having an unexpected amount of fun, because working with Deadpool _was_ fun, weird nicknames aside. It was hard enough finding a worthy opponent for verbal sparring, and usually whoever Peter was fighting with or against told him to shut up. Not Deadpool. Deadpool started talking and didn't stop, spitting out puns and references like a machine.

However, despite the verbal fun, fighting alongside the mercenary felt a lot like babysitting a teenager. A particularly murderous and rebellious teenager. He ended up shouting "No killing!" as often as he traded barbs, and he had to keep an equally careful eye on and out for his temporary partner's weapons as well as his opponent's.

Later, after the cops arrived and took the baddies away (during which Deadpool somehow disappeared, and after which he reappeared by dropping down out of the dark like some ninja wannabe), Peter finally asked a question that had been niggling at him since he'd first arrived.

"Why were you here anyway?" Because Peter hadn't actually expected to see the man ever again, not when he wasn't a super-villain who was trying to kill Spider-Man specifically.

"Oh yeah!" Deadpool exclaimed and snapped his fingers.

Peter waited.

And waited.

And wait- "You gonna finish that thought?" he asked impatiently.

"Oh yeah!" Deadpool exclaimed and snapped his fingers again, the tone and gesture so identical to the last occurrence that it gave Peter deja vu.

 _'There's a glitch in the Matrix,'_ he thought.

"I wanted to show off my mad skillz," Deadpool announced with a grin so wide Peter could see it through the mask. "I don't do it a lot but I could totally pull a Jason Statham and go all Protector on that ass if it should ever fall in battle."

Peter tried to decipher Deadpool's statement against the beginnings of a headache. And then had to run it back through when he remembered that, the last time they'd met, Deadpool had tried to do a spider's mating dance to 'court him'. "That's Transporter, but- So- You wanted to... show me you could be a strong mate?" he hazarded a guess.

"Spot on, Watson! 'Course, we also considered just gift wrapping 'em up all pretty and leaving 'em for you to eat at your heart's content so I could sneak up from behind so I could have my wicked way with _your_ behind-"

Peter cleared his throat loudly and uncomfortably, unable to ignore the heat in his cheeks and his ears. 'Forward' was a good word to describe Wade's 'courting' style, and yet, it wasn't the kind of courting Peter had ever had to deal with. If Wade was even serious about it. Not to mention the disturbingly large age gap.

"You do know that I have to be at least ten years older than you, right?" he asked, shifting nervously.

Deadpool stared at him. "My brain's in pieces, Spidey, but not that many. I can still do basic math. Most of the time. Some times. Enough times. And who doesn't love a good age dif' anyway? I'm legal, you're legal, we're all good to poke each other wherever with whatever. So what do you say?"

Peter gaped at him. "Ahhh, no," he finally managed, super glad for not the first time that he wore a mask that could hide the embarrassing flush spreading across his face.

"Oh." That one syllable sounded so disappointed that, when combined with the dropped shoulders, Peter almost felt bad for turning down a stranger's proposal for… courting. Then Deadpool apparently got over his disappointment because he perked right back up. "Time for Plan B!"

Peter took a quick step back. "No, no plan B. No murder, no cannibalism, and no plan B. And no beating me to my criminals again."

Before Deadpool could argue with him, Peter shot out a web and bailed, glad that that was the end of that.

* * *

That was not the end of that.

* * *

Deadpool began to show up _everywhere_. Fight at the docks? Deadpool. Fight in the city center? Deadpool. Fight on a rooftop dangerously close to Daredevil's territory? Daredevil. Just kidding it was Deadpool.

Peter wanted to be annoyed by the fact he seemed to have gotten a stalker somewhere along the line, but the silver lining on the situation was so thick it was easy to forget. Because it didn't take long for him to realize that every second the mercenary spent with him was a second he wasn't spending killing people. Which, secondary bonus: after Peter had made it explicitly clear that he wouldn't tolerate murder, Deadpool kept his guns holstered (mostly), and used his katana only to maim, Dobby-style.

However, it didn't take long for Peter to realize there was a downside too: he was actually starting to enjoy watching Deadpool fight (score one for Deadpool). Not that anybody should be able to blame him for that because as an accomplished mercenary, and ex-Special Forces, Deadpool should not only know how to fight, but also how to use every bit of his body to his advantage. And that he did. Which lead to the second downside: Peter was actually starting to get attracted to the man. Physically. Because even though Peter was stronger than Deadpool, watching those muscles at work was oddly satisfying. And arousing. Oh, and, well… Hat trick: he was starting to _like_ Deadpool.

Spending more time fighting together led to spending more time together _after_ fighting, which led to actually hanging out. Not at Peter's place, he still didn't trust the man enough for that, or with knowing his face and name, but apparently he trusted Wade enough that when Wade had first extended the offer to make pancakes, Peter hadn't even hesitated in accepting. In fact, he was at Wade's apartment for an hour before he even realized that he'd had no trepidation stepping into a mercenary's home.

Although, 'home' was a strong word for the ruin of an apartment Wade lived in, as evident by the fact that it was currently dubbed Safe House #1 since Wade apparently couldn't remember where the others were at the moment. Still, it housed a surprisingly comfy (if not grossly stained) couch, a television on a stand, and several gaming systems. Not that they ever used them all. Wade seemed particular to Nintendo games, and it wasn't until Peter had a controller dropped in his lap that he found out how aggressive a of Super Smash Bros. or Mario Kart could get. But when Wade got into a game, he _really_ got into it.

If they weren't playing games, they were watching the Golden Girls or musicals or singing along with Disney movies. Even though Peter, as a nerd, had no room to talk in liking childish things, seeing Wade interact with all the child-like material helped keep in mind how young Wade was, helped him remember that, no matter how much either of them had seen of the world and its tragedies, Wade was still so much younger than him and should date someone his age, not someone like Peter. But even with the Avengers' insistence that they stop hanging out, that Spider-Man should just turn Deadpool in, Peter couldn't help himself. He couldn't even imagine a life without Deadpool now that the man was in it.

At last, he'd hit rock bottom. But! That meant there was nowhere to go but up.

* * *

Turns out one can still go down from rock bottom.

TBC

* * *

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	3. Feeding

**Posted from bed cuz a telemarketer woke me up so now I'm going to go back to sleep. For like half an hour. An hour if I hit this Snooze button right.**

 **Cross-posted from AO3 same day.**

* * *

 ** _Feeding_**

It took Peter three months to realize that he and Wade, as Deadpool had finally introduced himself, weren't just hanging out, but were _friends_. With a surprisingly good friendship. If one ignored the fact that one friend was constantly hitting on the other. Because Wade seemed determined to dance or fight his way into a two-sided courtship on a weekly basis, just as Peter was determined that the courtship remain one-sided or disappear entirely. Just because he liked the man didn't mean that he liked or agreed with his bloodlust, and he couldn't forget it. Didn't mean he couldn't be friends though. Which he finally realized they were when he saw Wade's skin for the first time.

The day wasn't any different than what his normal days had become. Wade showed up where Peter was chilling on a ledge and dropped a bag of takeout in his lap.

"Eat up, baby boy!" Wade exclaimed, dropping down next to Peter and promptly digging in the bag still in Peter's lap, uncomfortably close to his dick. "I love me a good size difference as much as the next fangirl, but no reason for you to starve!"

Deadpool said something similar every single time he brought Peter food, and Peter was starting to wonder why because, ever since Wade had started feeding him, he'd actually started to gain weight for the first time in his life. It was a good feeling. Well, a good feeling as long as he ignored the suspicion that Wade was only bringing him food as part of his bizarre animal-based courtship attempt. Which he still engaged in with periodic dances and insistences of "Spidey, look at me!" while they were in a fight.

"You still haven't told me why you call me that," Peter said, digging in the bag for his own burrito. "Even though you're way way young...er than…." He trailed off when he turned to look at Wade and nearly lost his appetite entirely at the sight of Deadpool's lower jaw and it's hideous skin texture. It was actually the first time he'd ever seen Deadpool's skin in all their time together, and he finally understood why the man always kept it covered.

Deadpool glanced at him and then hurriedly shoved the rest of his burrito in his mouth before quickly yanking his mask back down.

"Sorry, baby boy, didn't mean for you to see that. Like ever, actually."

"Were you planning on fucking me with your suit on?" Peter asked, and immediately wanted to jump off the roof. If he didn't know his own lack of brain-to-mouth filter as well as he did, he might have been surprised by what he'd just said. Unfortunately, he was not. Fortunately, Wade was.

Wide masked eyes turned to stare at him. "Uhhh…."

Peter wondered if he'd broken Deadpool. He suddenly didn't want to be around when Wade fixed himself. "Whoops, there goes the ol' Spidey sense," he lied and jumped off the roof. Hopefully, Wade would just forget that he'd said anything at all.

* * *

Wade did not forget.

* * *

After Peter's filter failed him, Wade started getting more grabby. Not… molesty, exactly, except for how he kept trying to grab Peter's ass, but more like throwing an arm around his shoulder. Or not flinching when he'd move Peter during a fight. Or holding Peter's hand while they ate. Or sitting closer on the couch when Peter came by. Peter tolerated it all with varying degrees depending on his mood, and sometimes it ended with him dropping Wade off a roof, but sometimes it didn't end at all. Which seemed to give Wade the confidence to start showing more skin.

It started with rolling up his mask quicker and quicker until there was no hesitation when he sat down with food. He started throwing in removing a glove or two here or there, and snuck small touches against Peter's bare skin when Peter's gloves were off too. He always froze at first, and it was in those moments that the mercenary seemed most vulnerable, when he seemed his age. Which only made Peter remember how much younger Wade was than him and he'd pull away, but Wade never seemed to take offense; he'd just pull his gloves back on and continue with his meal.

Peter, for his part, was surprised with how quickly he acclimated to Wade's skin. Frankly, it was gross as hell, but Wade was more than just his skin, and it was starting to hurt to realize how self-conscious the man was about it. So as much as Wade was either trying to acclimate Peter to his skin – or maybe subconsciously scare him off with it? – Peter was trying just as hard to get used to it. Surprisingly, it didn't take long.

When Wade took off his mask around Peter for the first time, they were sitting on a roof after they'd stopped a bank robbery. Peter took one long, careful look at him, memorized his features, and then turned his face towards the sky. "You don't have to court me like an animal, you know," he said evenly. "I'm not actually a spider. Or a furry. You could try courting me like a person."

That time, Wade fell off the roof without any help from Peter.

Peter, for his part, was too busy to catch Deadpool before he hit the ground, his mind caught in swirl of panic. He was simultaneously worrying that he'd ruined their easy camaraderie by making Wade's flirting into more than it was, and wondering if Wade would actually change his method of attack.

* * *

He didn't have to wait long to find out.

TBC

* * *

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	4. Gifting

**Sorry for the one-day delay. I no longer have a computer and my spousal unit took our one phone for the day so I couldn't post till I got home from work.**

 **Cross-posted from AO3 same day.**

* * *

 ** _Gifting_**

"Baby boy!"

Peter's head snapped up at the familiar name, but the problem was, he was not only _not_ in costume, but it wasn't Wade who had said it. It had been the barista Peter hadn't even ordered from yet.

He approached the counter cautiously.

"Baby boy?" the girl asked, gesturing the cup at him.

"Yeah, I think so, but I didn't order yet?"

The girl rattled off his favourite drink, the one he splurged on as a rare treat, and Peter gaped. Eventually, the girl seemed to take pity on him.

"Okay, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but a really scary dude came in when we opened this morning, gave us your picture and told us to make this drink free when you showed up, or he'd be back. I wasn't actually here for that, none of us were, but morning shift wouldn't stay to find out if he'd come back so us afternoon shifters had to do a one day shift swap. You dating a super-villain or something?"

Peter gaped at her for a minute before physically shaking himself out of it by shaking his head. "No, I'm- He's-" Peter sighed. "I'll talk to him and make sure he doesn't do it again. I'm really sorry."

The girl shrugged. "Eh, it's New York. What're you gonna do."

Peter smiled tightly at her, grabbed his drink (he was angry, but not enough to give up free food), and left.

* * *

Wade was waiting for him on their roof when Peter showed up that night, wide grin on display where his mask was rolled up. "How'd you like your drink?" He was gleeful, excited, like a puppy. Which made it frustratingly hard for Peter to keep his anger. But it was still there.

"Are you tailing me?" he demanded.

The grin dropped suddenly from Wade's face and his shoulders fell. "No?"

Peter waited.

And waited.

And wa-

"Okay kinda but it started on accident! See, I was just walking around in my civvies and then I saw this cutie with a great ass in front of me and I was like 'Man, that's almost as good as Spidey's', and I didn't have anything better to do so I followed it and I started thinking 'I think that's Spidey's', and then cutie started walking up some stairs and I was like 'Holy shit that's Spidey!' So I started following it and man Spidey's ass owner has a super cute face and likes really sweet coffee so I wanted to get baby boy some coffee since you said stop doing animal things and start doing human things and human things is buying each other coffee, right?"

Peter stared at him, brain stuck on one particular part of Wade's confession. "You recognized me… by my ass?"

Deadpool nodded emphatically. "'Course I did, baby boy!" he exclaimed, tentative smile creeping back up.

Peter sighed and dropped his face into his hand.

"You never told me why you call me that," Peter mumbled into his hand.

"What, 'baby boy'?"

Peter nodded.

"Cuz you're a precious cinnamon roll and I want to cuddle the shit out of you."

Peter groaned. He couldn't deny that he liked the guy, but the age gap made him uneasy, as did the murdery-ness. But Wade was legal and had been better about not-killing lately and actually _liked_ Peter _and_ his nerdiness, and he put more effort into their non-relationship than anyone else had in a long time, if ever.

He was so going to regret this.

"Do you…" Christ, why was his heart beating so fast? "Do you want to go out to dinner?"

Deadpool whooped and jumped up. "It worked. You hear that, you assholes? My idea worked!" he cackled.

Peter was definitely going to regret this.

TBC

* * *

 **With how much Wade's obsessed with Spider-Man's ass, I keep hoping at least one fic I come across would have Wade recognizing Peter by his ass, but since I haven't found any yet, I had to throw it in. And that was before Elektra did it to Matt in Daredevil S2. lol (Omg I was so stoked when she did that.)**

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	5. Fucking

**What a week, fellow Americans, eh? Hopefully this final chapter makes up for it even a little bit. Enjoy.**

 **Cross-posted from AO3 same day.**

* * *

 _ **Fucking**_

"Does this count as you making me dessert?"

Peter groaned and dropped his bare face into his pillow. "Wade, I know I'm probably the only person on the planet who likes your mouth, but if you don't give your vocal cords a rest, I swear to god, I'll take it all back."

"Don't worry, Chasey Lain, I got your back," Wade said, and then snickered.

Before Peter could point out that he didn't have tits and had no plans to ever get any, Wade was kissing him. Or rather, kissing his asshole. Enthusiastically.

While Peter was far from a virgin, in regards to any gender, it was too hard to get a good partner who was chill with his weird hours. Needless to say, it had been a long time since anyone had touched him intimately, and he couldn't quite remember if anyone had ever touched him the way Wade had. Was. And christ if Wade's bad touch wasn't so _good_. Holy _god_ , it was good.

Wade sucked and nipped at Peter's rim until it was overly sensitive. He tongue-fucked him with such enthusiasm that 'enthusiastic' didn't even cover his exuberance. He buried his face between Peter's ass cheeks and kneaded them with his bare hands until the sensation of his scars was so ingrained into Peter's skin that Peter thought any future brush of skin on scars might give him a Pavlovian hard-on.

"You uh, you do this often?" Peter gasped out, fingers clenching and unclenching in the bed sheets as Wade ate him out. Noisily. Like _fuck_ it felt so, _so_ good to Peter, but Wade was moaning like it was _his_ ass getting eaten out. Peter's mind froze on the thought and he had to push it away. Later. He could think about that later.

"Few times before my makeover. Mostly I just think about doing it to you," Wade said amidst filthy slurps and smacking. "How'm I doing, teach'?"

"Top student. Settin' the curve," Peter managed to reply. He tried to rock back into the sensation, wanting more, _needing_ more, but Wade just shoved his thighs wide, forcing his knees up the bed and making it impossible to take what Wade wasn't giving enough of. Then Wade shifted from his knees to laying down, the warm weight of his still-dressed bulk against Peter's bare skin shockingly erotic, even with the man's tongue up his ass. And wasn't that just unfair: fifteen years of superheroing couldn't get Peter even _half_ the muscle mass as a twenty-year old mercenary.

"Think you can come like this?"

As hard, and as sensitive, as Peter was right now, as hard as he'd been since Wade had started whispering sweet everythings in his ear over tacos on the couch, he just didn't feel that particular sensation that told him an orgasm was coming. It was just severe and unbearable arousal. "I can't think- I _don't_ \- I don't think so." God, it was just so hard to _think_.

"Aw okay," Wade cooed sympathetically with a pat on his butt cheek. "S'why I got this."

"Got wh-?" Peter started, but then something small and smooth was shoved into him and he jumped. "What-" And then it started to vibrate. He bucked hard against the hands holding him down, but Wade kept him pinned, easier than he really should have.

"How about now?"

Peter could hear his cheeky smile but he couldn't answer. The vibrator was pressing right up against his prostate, turning the world behind his eyes white and fuzzy. Apparently going nonverbal was enough of an answer because Wade returned to his 'dessert' with abandon, and a long, low moan. And if he wasn't so turned on by all that Wade had done before they'd gotten to the bedroom, and after, Peter might have been embarrassed by how fast he came with his cock untouched between his belly and the bed, screaming silently into the pillow.

After, when he was still too boneless to move, a puddle of brainless, fucked-out jelly, Wade rolled him onto his back and slid up his body. Which was actually kind of really hot, seeing the way the muscles in his arms shifted and tightened with the movement. But then Wade tried kiss him.

"Oh hell no, ass breath," Peter protested, shoving Wade away. The man tumbled off the bed and hit the floor with a heavy _thump_ and a groan.

"But the fics never mention this part!" Wade whined.

"Shut up," Peter grumbled, his face still hot. He couldn't even blame it on his mask this time because after he'd brought Wade back to his apartment, he'd taken off his mask and introduced himself. Apparently, Peter was more attractive than Wade had been expecting because he was pretty sure Wade would have fucked him over the kitchen counter if Peter hadn't been so insistent on actually eating first. That hadn't stopped Wade from whispering unspeakable things in Peter's ear while they ate.

He dropped his leg over the side of the bed to kick at Wade, but his foot landed on leather covering something long, thick, and hot. Wade moaned and rolled his hips, rubbing his erection into Peter's foot.

"Are you...are you _still_ hard or hard _again_?" Peter exclaimed, staring up at his ceiling in wide-eyed awe as he pressed down on Wade's dick with the ball of his foot. Wade moaned again and Peter's refractory period seemed to reform in an instant.

"Hard again. Came twice eating you out. You have no idea how hot you are, baby boy." Wade was panting and frotting furiously against the pressure of Peter's foot, and even without being able to see what was happening, the sounds and sensation of Wade using Peter's throwaway limb to get himself off was _hot_. Also the fact that every part of Peter was still sensitive, even his feet, apparently.

"Older than you," Peter reminded him, but it was absent-minded at best because he'd wrapped a hand around himself when he wasn't paying attention and was using the foot still on the bed to push into it. The heat in his skin rekindled, making him feel loose and buzzed.

"Wh-At e-ever you sa-AY, ba-ah! babe," Wade gasped out, and then let out a moan, the same one he'd let out against Peter's hole, as wet spread underneath Peter's foot. Breathing out heavily through his nose, Peter's orgasm eased over him and he spilled into his hand, stroking gently as Wade continued small little rolls of his hips.

Eventually, they stilled, only their heavy breathing filling the room until that too settled, leaving the air warm and heavy and comfortable. After a surprisingly long silence, Wade sat up and crossed his arms on the bed before propping his chin on them, the smile on his face soft. Peter turned to look at him and it was hard to ignore the warmth in his chest. For all his brashness, Wade was surprisingly romantic and gentle where it counted. Maybe Peter wouldn't regret this after all.

"Thanks for dessert, baby boy," Wade purred, licking his lips and making Peter blush all over again. If Wade was going to continue to be this enthusiastic in bed, he was going to ruin all other men (and women) for Peter. "Can't wait to put that thing down, flip it and reverse it. Gonna tap it like a Magic card, plow it like a field, sow my seed, salt the earth-"

Peter's good mood evaporated, as did his smile.

"Get out."

FINIS

* * *

 **I love 'The Ballad of Chasey Lain' by Bloodhound Gang (YT has a music video) and it's such a Wade song, except for the angry stan part because Wade doesn't expect anything from who he's a stan for.**

 **Like the thing? Reblog the thing (themadkatter13fanfiction, tagged/Courting Spider Man).**

 **Hope you enjoyed this journey! I certainly didn't! Jk. Sorta. It was a battle but I think I came out alright in the end.**


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